My Tres Amusant Life Except for certain bits
by Reganesque
Summary: Soooo, mes amis, Georgia goes to a party. Yup. Bon apetit. By the way, this is my first try at this thing so...you have been warned. R and R please!
1. My first real day as a semisingle woman

Sunday, February 8th  
  
Painfully sunny  
  
9:33 AM  
  
Good morning, good morning. ack, who am I fooling. I have decided to fade away in this little room of mine, and Libby will be my little servant child. She will bring me all the milk trays I can eat. Ergh, but then my skin would get all spotty, and that would be no good, because what if SG comes to visit me? Jas can be my live in beautician then. As long as she doesn't try to give me a horrid fringe. Going to sleep now.  
  
9:36  
  
Found Libby's nappy at the bottom of my bed. She is fired as my servant child. Instead, she can wear cat ears and a tail and be my little jester. I will feed her kitty treats. Yes. That is all I have to say. Going to cry myself to sleep now.  
  
10:07  
  
Jas has just rung me up and told me she is holding un fete dans her house! What shall I do? No one wants to be with I, the old hag of the town. No SG to dance with either. Or snog. He is partying with girls who wear very little clothing in Kiwi-a-gogo land. I think I hate my life. I also think I have acquired a rather rotten smell, too, which means that even Jas will not stand with me in a dark corner, as she has a very sensitive nose. Whereas I just have a very LARGE nose. I smell of stale seaweed, and chicken that has gone bad.  
  
10:02  
  
And what shall I wear? Perhaps a burqa. They are all the rage. Just not here. Which I don't understand, because I think they are very flattering if you are unbearably hideous. Must start trying new hairstyles from mum's Cosmo.  
  
10:04  
  
My mother reads pornography. Does she actually do the things with my father that this magazine suggests? Must think pure thoughts. Baby chicks, clean sweaters, church, broccoli, cucumbers NO NOT CUCUMBERS, towels, clouds, sunshine, Dave the Laugh.NO Rob. Rob Rob Rob. Ah, this hairstyle looks nice. Like a sausage at the back of your head, but all frizzy at the top. How sophisticamos. Like me. Going to take Libs for a walk.  
  
Friday, Feb 13th  
  
4:02  
  
In Duetsch today we learned how to say, "Bend over." I yelled this at Elvis on our way out. Apparently, he knows German, because he blushed a deep, frightening purple. Ick. Now he thinks I want him to bear my children. Well that is just not so Elvis. You are far past manopause. Ha! Ha! I crack myself up. Like an egg. Jas' partay tonight. I'll wear all white to blend into the walls.  
  
8:47  
  
I forgot, Jas's walls are GREEN. Who on earth paints there walls green? It is as if her parents wish they lived in the jungle. Perhaps they like to sit in trees and fling their poo at one another.  
  
According to Jas my nunga nungas look enormous in white. I think she may be onto something, klevor girl, because as Rosie and I were walking to Jas' an old man on his front lawn yelled, "MUMMY!" I think I shall kill myself.  
  
10:33  
  
The whole time Dave was dancing with other girls, during the slow songs that make me feel as sad as a swordfish, he would look at me over their shoulders and waggle his eyebrows, I think in the direction of my chest. My breasts and I hate him. Oh Gord save me. Then when I was getting some punch, he came over and said, "Georgia, I need to talk to you, I'm really, er, confused about our little secret randy-vous. You see." Fortunately, his back was to me, as he was getting some punch for himself, so I walked off, letting him chatter to himself about shameful snogging and other such things. Ha. Ha. Ha. So there Mr. Laughy laugh laugh laugh. Who's laughing now? Moi. Yes, that's right. Okay, I'm finished.  
  
10:43  
  
It'll take a bit of effort, but I think it would be appropriate to cry myself to sleep tonight, as I am mourning the loss of my ONE true love. Although that means I'll have to spend some time with cucumber slices tomorrow. Gord, I have had to sacrifice soooo much for this romantic and dramatic life I lead. Oh well, I am slowly getting over it, as I am slowly getting over not being able to fly. 


	2. Valentines Day The Horror THE HORROR

Saturday, February 14th  
  
9:03 AM  
  
Jas has just rung me to wish me a happy Valentine's day. Tom has already been by to serenade her.  
  
Oh God, it is the most depressing day in the world and I am a widow (ish). How did I forget that I was to spend the entire day weeping and playing on my lute, singing sad songs?! Although I don't have a lute.  
  
Why hasn't SG called me yet? He has already forgotten me, I know. He probably has a new girlfriend, and he tells her stories about how my basoomas bonked him in the nose all the time.  
  
9:34  
  
Georgia says we are all going out dancing to night, but I refuse. I'm staying home and wearing black. Because I am still mourning get it? Still, it would be nice to go out and shake my bon bon. But I assure you and baby Jesus that Rob would NOT approve.  
  
10:17  
  
Rob has called! He said "Hello sexkitten, I've sent Tom by with some kitty treats for you. He should be there soon. Have a lovely day!"  
  
And then he hung up. That's it. I'm vair vair confused but I expect that Tom will be bringing something tres romantique. Oh let's hope so, I could use some chocolate.  
  
10:30  
  
Tom came, I think. Vati found a box on the doorstep. "Oh isn't that nice of Jas to do." Just because he is elderly it does not mean he can show such disrespect. I told him this. He told me that I looked like a racoon. I cried with mascara on last night as I thought it would be more dramatic to have mascara running down my cheeks. Unfortunately, my waterproof mascara really is waterproof.  
  
Contents of Box: One box of chocolates (Oh yum. He must be my psychic soul sistah), One teddy bear holding a heart that says, "I'm Beary much in love with you," One yellow rose, a Polaroid camera, and a letter.  
  
Here is that most blessed of letters.  
  
Darling Georgia, Well here I am. It's very warm here. We've been busy, so I've hardly any time to write this. But I love you more than the Pope hates Catholics, as you say. I love the way you look at me when I sing, I love the way you sneeze, and I love the way you smell. I hope you have a wonderful valentines day, out dancing and laughing it up with your girlfriends. I've sent the camera so you can show me what you've been up to on this day when we really ought to be together. Georgia I cannot wait to see you again  
  
Lovingly and adoringly,  
  
Rob  
  
Adoringly? Didn't Vati use that word the other day? Anyways, it is a beautiful letter. And the camera idea is very romantic. I bet he even made it up himself, instead of getting it from a magazine! I suppose this means I HAVE to go dancing. Time to call Jas.  
  
10:41  
  
But why didn't he send me a RED rose? Does this mean he doesn't love me anymore? Oh dear Gord I really am going to end up lost and alone, floating in some creek with rose petals strewn around.  
  
12:36  
  
Jas has come over and pointed out to me that the word love appeared five times in his letter. So everything is alright. I no longer have to commit hari kari. Preparation time has begun. Tonight I shall clothe my dear self in TIGHT brown "leather" pants, and a white shirt with a sparkly pink heart. Tres sexy, non? Jas has told me she has a surprise for me but she won't tell me what it is until later. Anyhoo, must start with the facemasks and hair rollers now that outfit has been planned.  
  
5:13  
  
I was about to start on my makeup when Jas showed me her surprise: Champagne! She stole it from her grandmother. We are going to drink it and be glamorous rebels. I have been inspired to do my eye makeup a little darker.  
  
5:43  
  
Champagne ish shoooo good. Jas was shoooo nice to brinng id. I lub her so much. Jas and me are going to have a speshul friendship ceremony. We are going to danz and shing and then we will do the speshul frindship smooch. Then we arrr going to place ongion rings on hour fingurs.  
  
6:03  
  
Jas and me are merried now. We'arr goin to the club and show our luff to the world. Not that kinda luff though, we'arr'n't lezzers, but weeee lurv each other like mothur and sistur. Hrrrrmmm firsht some more champagne! Note to beotiful self: Do no furget camera.  
  
9:0 Ha ha everybody is so shilly and they dance like ostrijes. Jas and I are dancing like elephants who lub eachudder veby mush. Ooh everybody looks at us admirir .. Idmirer ..edmiruringly.  
  
February 15th  
  
11:19 AM  
  
Augh! My head hurts a lot. Why do I stink of onions? And why is Jas lying on my floor wearing lib's knickers? One on each leg? Oog.  
  
11:30  
  
I have found pieces of onion around my wrists and ankles. Rosie just called. I think now would be a good time to kill myself.  
  
Apparently last night Jas and I danced as if we were two old men on female hormones. I sat on Dave the L's lap and sucked on his ear, murmuring, "Do you think if we went on Broadway we would be rich? I could be a naked dancing girl." He seemed to enjoy this very much, as I found a LOVE BITE one my shoulder, as proof. Which really was quite nice of him, considering that no one else would go near Jas and me, but him, because we reeked of a certain je ne sais quoi. Actually, I know quoi; it was onions and cheap champagne. (Actually Tom tried to take Jas home but she bit his shin and insisted on repeatedy twirling around him in circles, singing "I am a poo fairy, a poo fairy, a poo fairy," and patting his bum.) Oh God, oh Goddy God God. I am a skanky whatsit -a tramp. I am made of floozy fruit, not not- til-we-marry berry! Oooooh, Rob will divor -er, I mean dump me, if he ever hears of this.  
11:34  
  
Jas has finally woken up. She is sitting on the floor weeping. Not because of my tragedy though, oh no. She is, as usual, only concerned with her problems. And that is that she cheated on Tom last night. With moi. In our friendship ceremony. I swear to God, it was only a little peck on the cheek. She is such a lezzie in denial. Perhaps I ought to give her some champagne to cheer her up.  
  
On second thought, that's probably not a bon idea.  
  
11:36  
  
Oh God, the photos. They are nowhere to be found.  
  
11:38  
  
Rosie says Jas and I finally fled, screaming about basooma-munching mangos, and ran across the street to the post office, where we mailed a package, with lipstick all over it. Oh sweet mother of Moses. 


End file.
